


Retreat and Return

by JohnlockDragon (DearDarling)



Series: Retreat and Return [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Johnlock Party, Multi, Pining, Returning Home, Uncle Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 05:32:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2097492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearDarling/pseuds/JohnlockDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is absent in his and Mary's relationship, causing him to return to his life with Sherlock Holmes.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Retreat and Return

**Author's Note:**

> Mild reference to drinking.

“Mary, I’m home!” John called. He had spent a long day at the hospital practice and was exhausted, looking forward to a relaxing evening in front of the telly. Their son, Alfie, was staying with John's parents, to give him and Mary a bit of "alone time."  
“Mary!” he called again, almost deciding to give up and leave before he heard a clunk in the upstairs bedroom. Curious, John headed silently up the stairs. He slowly pushed open their bedroom door, his words dying on his lips. Mary and Irene where tangled in the sheets on their bed, a moaning mesh of needy limbs, desperately clawing at each other. John and Irene’s eyes met. Everything in the room seemed to freeze.  
“Our son Mary.” John whispered.

***

Johns key slide into the familiar lock at 221B Baker Street with a soft click. He stepped into the familiar room to find Sherlock sitting on the sofa.  
“You knew” John whispered. Of course he knew. The man could deduce a person’s life story from the tilt of their head and the hunch of their shoulders.  
“Yes” Sherlock replied, his tone flat, revealing nothing.  
“You didn't think to tell me?” John’s voice trembled.  
“I tried” Sherlock murmured their eyes meeting for the first time. John looked away, his eyebrows hunching together. A blurred memory of Sherlock’s anxious whisper, Johns hands shaking, golden liquid in the bottom of a glass, a familiar burn at the back of his throat. He knew he had made himself forget, not wanting to believe the truth and blinding himself from it.  
John knew he had not been there for Mary. “Emotionally unavailable” she had called him, in their increasingly frequent arguments. He knew it was true. He had loved Mary, and Mary had loved him, but as time went on, their relationship had faded into a duty rather than an enjoyment. He had kept it together mainly for Alfie he realised. He had wanted what was best for his son, an ideal family home, but he now realised living a lie may not be the most caring thing after all. He looked back at Sherlock. Sherlock looked back at him.  
“Coffee?” Sherlock asked.  
“Please” John replied.

***

John did not sleep that night. He paced. “What now?” He thought. He had left Alfie with Mary for the night, but arrangements would have to be made. The house, the mortgage, the bills. Where did his duty fall? Where would he live? Funny, he thought, how in a stressful time his feet had automatically led him to the flat at Baker Street. And now he was back in his old room, left virtually untouched, save the absence of any personal possessions, all of which had been moved out when he moved in with Marry. John absent mindedly wondered why Sherlock had never re-rented out the room and why he did not feel more emotionally affected by their resent, what he presumed was a break up. He sighed, slouching back onto the bed, spotting a shadow under the wardrobe. He rolled off the bed, reaching for the unknown object. He pulled out a half empty forgotten bottle of scotch. Sherlock really had left his room untouched. 

***

Mary sighed. Alfie was asleep next door, and Irene had left shortly after the “incident”. John too had swiftly departed. A part of her wished she had had an opportunity to explain, but she was certain they both knew the situation. John had left her long before she had begun cheating on him. Not physically left her to raise their son, John would never do that, but he had grown increasingly emotionally detached. Mary had always known there was a part of John she could never reach, and as time had gone on, she had craved more than their relationship could offer. Irene had offered an easy escape, giving her what she craved. Yet Mary could not help but regret how John had found out. She could not lie to herself, it was a relief that their relationship was over, but she had distantly hoped they would remain friends, which she was sure would suit them both perfectly. Yet now she thought that may be less than possible. But she definitely did not want to return to their marriage. She hoped that was clear. Quickly she retrieved her phone.  
“I’m sorry, I hope we can remain friends, but I know neither of us wish to continue our relationship and I don’t think we could. Mx” She texted. Cowardly, she knew, but knowing John he was likely to have started drinking by now, and would be in no state to pick up the phone.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated any feedback is welcome.  
> I expect to write another chapter (?)


End file.
